Raw, adjective: 4. painfully open, as a sore or wound
Almost a week now that I've been waylaid by this foot thing, and I tell ya: walking will never feel mundane again. At the same time, I'm gaining a newfound wisdom into the World of the Crutched. As in,
1) Cabbies have sympathy for you when you're hobbling up a San Francisco hill one-legged. They pull over without even having to be flagged down. And then flirt with you. That could have been the low-cut shirt I was wearing. But anyway - sweet. And then they still charge you up the wazoo. Sigh.
2) Strangers suddenly come out of the woodwork. Everyone's got a crutch sob story to share, and they are quick to carry your bag or help you up the stairs, especially the little old ladies in my neighborhood. This, too, rocks.
3) Still blows to be stuck sitting on my ass so much.
4) Had an audition for a show Monday night and for the first time "break a leg" jokes seemed a bit rueful. At least they remembered me, I guess, because I got a callback yesterday. Benefits of being a gimp.
5) If you go to the Cafe (on Market) to go "dancing" with your friends, a.k.a. "standing in the corner jumping around on one foot leaning on your crutches while they dance," don't wear flip-flops or they will kick you out, even if you are eight hot chicks and one sympathy case. Oh yes, and this kicking-out will happen AFTER you've climbed the two-level stairs on crutches to get in. Where's the justice, people?
6) Walking boots are the next hot thing for Spring. So says the fashion intuition of one Ms. Rachel. Just warning you. Order yours now and fit in with the cool kids.
I'm hoping to be strapping mine on by the end of this week, which would thankfully put an end to this week-long couch-sitting stretch (ugh). Oh, to go for a run again!! I'm dying. Even though the boot will make me feel roughly like Sasquatch, it has to be better than hauling my sore bod around on these two silver poles stuck in my chafing armpits.
Stay tuned for possible pics of the sexiness to come.